Happy Birthday
by lorilee66
Summary: dedicated to anyone who's family has forgotten their birthday


"Nick, did Mother seem a little out of sorts to you this morning?"

Nick didn't look up from the tree he was chopping. A severe windstorm the night before had left deadfall all over the fence line, so instead of checking on the orchards like he had planned, he and every other man on the place were removing fallen trees and fixing damaged fence.

"Nick? Did you hear me?"

Nick aimed a mighty blow at the tree and had a sense of satisfaction as the trunk fell in two. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked over at his blond brother, who was pulling out a broken post.

"You say something, Heath?"

Heath sighed and shook his head as he wrestled the post out of the ground. "Just wondering if Mother seemed a little bit… I guess you could say 'put out' at breakfast."

Nick pushed one half of the tree off the fence, thinking. "Well, she was a little quiet," he admitted. "Reckon I was thinking about how this windstorm upset my carefully planned schedule and didn't really notice…" Then his heart sunk as it hit him. "Oh, no," he said quietly.

Heath stopped at the look of horror on his brother's face. "Nick, you're scaring me. What is it?"

"Today's Mother's birthday."

Heath stared at Nick, stunned. "Boy howdy, it's her birthday? How come no one told me?"

"Well, I thought you knew!" Nick exploded, letting out some the anger he had at himself.

Heath pushed back his hat and folded his arms across his chest. "Nick, I ain't been part of the family for more'n five months. And since there's no big sign or circle on the calendar saying 'Mother's birthday', I reckon someone should've just up and told me."

Nick ran a hand over his hair. "Sorry, Heath. I'm just so used to you being here, it's like you always were."

Heath gave a crooked grin. "It's all right, big brother." He raised a questioning eyebrow. "Now, I reckon I've got an excuse, seeing as how no one bothered to tell me, but I'm wondering how you're gonna get out of it."

Nick was asking himself the same question.

.

Jarrod pressed his hands against his forehead. Judge Meyers was a stubborn, irascible old goat and if he never had to face the man across a courtroom again it would be too soon. The only saving grace was that the case was over and Jarrod's client had come out the victor.

Jarrod sighed and picked up the calendar on his desk, wondering if he could cancel his appointments for the rest of the week. The day's date jumped out at him and Jarrod paused for a moment, wondering why it seemed so important.

The calendar fell from his grasp as Jarrod remembered, aghast. He'd forgotten his mother's birthday. So focused on the case for the last few days, it had completely slipped his mind. Jarrod slumped back in his chair. He'd _never_ forgotten his mother's birthday. He couldn't remember a time when anyone in the family had forgotten Mother's birthday.

_At least everyone else gave her their best wishes_, he thought ruefully as he gathered up his coat and hat to go find the biggest bouquet of roses Stockton had to offer_. I hope Jingo doesn't mind a roommate tonight._

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Audra cheerily said goodbye to Father Nicholls, happy that they had finally raised enough money for the badly needed new roof for the orphanage. She'd spent several sleepless nights, hoping that the storms wouldn't come before it was complete and now she was satisfied that the children would be snug and dry this winter.

"And give my best wishes of the day to your mother," the tall priest told her as he helped her into the buggy. "Tell her I don't know which birthday she's celebrating, but she doesn't look a day over forty."

Audra admirably covered her dismay as she clenched the reins in her hands. "I… I will, Father. I have to go." She slapped the reins hard across the horse's rump and yelled "Hi-ya!" goading the startled animal into a gallop.

Mother's birthday? How on earth could she forget? She drove the buggy as fast as she could, barely paying attention to the road. No wonder Mother had seemed so sad at breakfast that morning. At least the lace shawl she'd commissioned in San Francisco came in last week, so it wasn't as though she completely forgot. But still, not wishing her mother a happy birthday when she greeted her this morning made Audra feel horrible. She was a horrible daughter, Audra concluded, not worthy of the wonderful woman who was her mother and wondered how she'd ever be able to make amends.

.

"I made you a nice pot of tea," Silas told Victoria as he came onto the verandah, "and a little surprise as well."

Victoria sighed at her mournful contemplation of the rose garden, a present from her husband on her fortieth birthday. He might have been an imperfect man, but Tom had never forgotten her birthday, she thought as she turned and saw the tiny cake on the tea tray with a single candle burning at its center.

"Happy birthday, Missus Barkley."

Victoria returned the beaming smile of her dear friend. "Thank you, Silas," she said gratefully. "Join me in a cup?"

Silas shook his head. "Oh, no, Missus Barkley. I'm preparing all your favourites for dinner tonight and I have to get back to the kitchen just as soon as you blow out the candle."

Victoria blew out a small puff and the flame went out, leaving behind only a faint wisp of smoke.

"Now enjoy your tea," Silas told her and headed to the door before turning back. "I'm sure they didn't forget. Your children just had a lot on their minds this morning. Just you wait and see."

Sipping her tea, Victoria thought about Silas' words. Yes, they all had busy lives, but that didn't really excuse them from forgetting, for not uttering two simple words, 'Happy Birthday'.

But what to do about it? It would be terribly childish of her to give into her urge to yell and stomp around the house and make all their lives miserable. She couldn't restrain a chuckle at the thought of that surely being what Nick would do if his birthday was forgotten. Jarrod would likely make some sort of toast subtly poking fun and Audra would probably sit in her room and pout before taking herself shopping.

Victoria wondered what Heath would do before she realized she had no idea when his birthday actually was. A lump formed in her throat at the thought of her newest son quietly wishing himself a happy birthday before heading off to work before the sun even came up.

Rising quickly to her feet, Victoria hurried into the kitchen. "Silas, do you know when Heath's birthday is?"

Silas thought for a minute before shaking his head. "No ma'am, I don't think that topic ever came up. I fact, I don't rightly know if he'd have any idea that it was your birthday unless one of the others told him."

"Well, if they forgot to tell me, I don't think there's much chance of anyone telling him," she said cynically. Suddenly, an idea sparked in her mind. "Silas, when that delicious cake I smell is ready to decorate, can you make sure it's for both myself and Heath? And add a few of his favourites to supper?"

Silas smiled at the suggestion. "That's a marvellous idea, Missus Barkley," he agreed. "I'm sure Mr. Heath'll be right tickled."

"Good. But that doesn't let my other children off the hook." Another idea came to her. "Silas, old friend, I believe I'm going to celebrate two birthdays this year."

.

Jarrod rode Jingo into the yard just as Audra pulled the buggy up in front of the barn. Dismounting, he turned to the sound of hoofbeats and saw his brothers riding up. He took note of the expression on everyone's face and felt a guilty sense of relief. Misery did love company after all.

"I take it you all forgot, too?" Audra asked as they approached.

Heath spoke up first. "I have to say in my own defence that I didn't know."

Jarrod wagged his finger in Heath's face. "Uh uh, brother Heath, ignorance of the law is not a valid defence."

"Yeah, well, in this case, it's the only kind of defence any of us have," Nick pointed out, "including you, counsellor. And I think you're guilty of trying to bribe the judge," he added, indicating the bouquet of roses in Jarrod's hand.

"Merely a peace offering," Jarrod told him, "though it'll probably be too little, too late."

They all stood uneasily, no one wanting to be the first to start toward the house.

"Safety in numbers," Nick finally announced and he pushed Heath towards the door. "You first, she's less likely to shoot you. Remember, 'Yours is not to wonder why, yours is but to do or die'."

Heath started to protest before sighing and walking to the front door. "Nick, if you're gonna quote Tennyson, at least get the words right," he said over his shoulder as he opened the door, his siblings following reluctantly on his heels.

At the look on Victoria's face as she stood in the foyer, arms crossed, more of Tennyson's poem came back to her children and they felt like the six hundred, riding into the jaws of Death. They could only hope they'd fare better.

Jarrod boldly took the initiative and held out the flowers. "Happy birthday, Mother," he said gallantly.

Victoria ignored him and walked to Heath, taking his face in her hands and kissing his cheek. She took his arm and led the slightly bewildered blond into the parlour, where she sat and pulled him to sit next to her. The rest of Tom Barkley's offspring trailed behind, chagrined and puzzled at the same time.

"Now, Heath," Victoria said sweetly, "we've all been neglecting you terribly."

Heath, looking more perplexed, glanced at his siblings. Nick shrugged and the other two shook their heads. "I can't think of how, Mother. I reckon you've been downright pampering me."

She patted his arm reassuringly. "Well, we have," she stated. "Not one of us has even thought to ask you when your birthday is."

The expression on Jarrod, Nick and Audra's faces grew more guilty by at least ten times.

"You mean we've missed your birthday, too?" Nick hollered in outrage.

"Brother Heath, if we'd have known…"

Heath cut Jarrod off. "You haven't missed it, it's not for another two months. I didn't tell you, anyways."

"And if you had, they still might have forgotten," Victoria added with a stern look at the other three.

"Mother, I…"

Victoria raised her hand, forestalling Audra's protest. "Now, I will tell you what we are going to do. Silas has prepared a special birthday dinner for your brother and myself."

Heath opened his mouth to protest that his birthday hadn't even arrived, but shut it when she looked at him, eyes twinkling mischievously, and decided he might as well play along.

"And then, I declare that as well as today and Heath's actual birthdate, we will celebrate properly on Saturday, with happy birthdays at breakfast and gifts and anything else your brother and I deem suitable. Is that understood?"

Jarrod, Nick and Audra exchanged glances before nodding.

"That's a wonderful idea," Jarrod concurred.

"I agree," Audra seconded. "Maybe you'd like to go on a picnic."

"A picnic?" Nick thundered. "I'll have you know this is a working ranch and we can't just drop everything and go lollygagging because…"

"Reckon a picnic is just how I want to spend my birthday," Heath interrupted with a wink at Victoria as Silas came in to announce dinner. He offered his mother his arm and she took it with a smile, reflecting that this was certainly in the running as one of her most memorable and special birthdays ever.

.

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_Dedicated to everyone who's ever had family forget their birthday!_

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**The Charge of The Light Brigade by Alfred Lord Tennyson**

Half a league, half a league,

Half a league onward,

All in the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.

'Forward, the Light Brigade!

Charge for the guns' he said:

Into the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.

'Forward, the Light Brigade!

' Was there a man dismay'd?

Not tho' the soldiers knew

Some one had blunder'd:

Their's not to make reply,

Their's not to reason why,

Their's but to do and die:

Into the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,

Cannon to left of them,

Cannon in front of them

Volley'd and thunder'd;

Storm'd at with shot and shell,

Boldly they rode and well,

Into the jaws of Death,

Into the mouth of Hell

Rode the six hundred.

Flash'd all their sabres bare,

Flash'd as they turned in air

Sabring the gunners there,

Charging an army while

All the world wonder'd:

Plunged in the battery-smoke

Right thro' the line they broke;

Cossack and Russian

Reel'd from the sabre-stroke

Shatter'd and sunder'd.

Then they rode back, but not

Not the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,

Cannon to left of them,

Cannon behind them

Volley'd and thunder'd;

Storm'd at with shot and shell,

While horse and hero fell,

They that had fought so well

Came thro' the jaws of Death,

Back from the mouth of Hell,

All that was left of them,

Left of six hundred.

When can their glory fade?

O the wild charge they made!

All the world wonder'd.

Honour the charge they made!

Honour the Light Brigade,

Noble six hundred!


End file.
